She grimaces at Caspian, who sits up, gasping for air. “Take us to the Tower of Nether Reach.” Her gaze lands on me. “The High Princes and their lady, too.”
Dayton lunges for Farron. Kel tilts the mirror of his necklace, catching the moonlight, an iridescent glimmer before he shoves me forward.
But he’s not faster than the thorns. They wrap around my legs, covering my body, and drag us under. With the last of my freedom, I urge one of my briars to wrap around Kel’s sword and hurl it into the lake.
Then we are swept into darkness.
Down to the Below.
Part Four
Everlasting Vow
58
Rosalina
We’re in the Below. I know it in the way I know my own name or that the sky is blue.
But this sky is not blue. There’s nothing above us but a gray, murky mist. A tight coil of thorns wraps around my body, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping me upright. Kel, Ezryn, Day, and Farron are all bound as well, and we form a circle around … Caspian.
The Prince of Thorns kneels, heaving up black rot. Standing above him is her. Sira. Queen of the Below.
My thoughts turn to Kairyn, left alone at the lake. He saved Ezryn. But there’s no one who can save us down here.
Breath rattles in my chest as I struggle to get my bearings. A circular platform extends around us, surrounded by seven spiked pillars. As I peer down, I realize how high we are, surrounded by a land of darkness and shadow. In the distance, a lavender glow flickers like a distant candle, casting an eerie light upon the grim landscape. Cryptgarden, perhaps. I remember walking through the city on Caspian’s birthday, looking up at the tower on which we now stand.
The Tower of Nether Reach.
“No,” Farron whispers, eyes wide and shining. “My magic … I can’t reach it down here.”
“We’re too far from Castletree,” Dayton mumbles. “It’s too weak.”
I feel for my own magic. It’s distant, like an echo of what once was. But the thorns imprisoning us … They feel vibrant, close. I can still use them, I know it.
Taking a steadying breath, I hone in on my control of the thorns, making sure I can grasp the ones around me. It takes me a bit longer to connect with the briars snaring my princes, but once I take control, perhaps I can get us home.
“So careless.” Sira walks around Caspian, though it would be more accurate to say glides, as if she does not need to step at all. “What were you thinking, releasing that thing?”
Caspian sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “The High Princes took out the Dreadknights and goblins. I was desperate.”
“Risking your sister’s forces instead of your own.” Sira tsks. “I cannot decide if you are idiotic or brilliant.”
“Oh, Mother.” Caspian stands. The fluidity to his movements has returned. “You know, I always have a plan.”
Mother? The Queen of the Below … She’s Caspian’s mother. She raised him. He truly is born of darkness.
“And you can help with your sister’s plan. Take their tokens,” Sira says.
“As you wish, Mother,” Caspian says lowly. He walks over to the princes one by one, ripping off their necklaces. The snowflake from Kel, the wooden rectangle from Ezryn, the golden leaf from Farron, chains snapping.
“W-wait,” Dayton begs as Caspian stands in front of him. “It’s just one of the shells. Don’t rip the whole thing. They’re important—”
“For stars’ sake,” Caspian grumbles, tapping his foot impatiently, but releases Dayton’s hands from the thorns long enough for the Summer Prince to carefully untie his necklace and remove only the shell that is the token of the Queen.
“And her? What does she bear?” Sira asks, taking a step toward me. “Such a troubling little flower.”
“Nothing important, I’m sure,” Caspian says quickly and stands in front of me. His eyes burrow into my own. “Did your precious princes give you any jewelry to match theirs?”
I tear from his gaze, but my stomach roils at the thought of losing my necklace. The necklace with the moonstone rose that belonged to my mother, and the golden leaf I was gifted from the Autumn Realm.
“Take it,” Sira demands.
He does, ripping it in a swift movement. Then he holds it up before his mother. “A little leaf to match her Autumn mate.”
Sira shakes her head, as if the notion of mates and gifts is beneath her. Caspian didn’t hand over my rose. What did he do with it?